09-30-2017, 08:59 AM
 i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
The land that stretches before them is a vast land of rolling hills, stretching west towards the distant sea as far as the eye can see. Behind them, the craggy mountains stretch toward the sky, cloaked in nightfall still but for their snow-capped tips. The air around them is still cool, not yet heated to a more comfortable late spring warmth, and it tugs at the tangle of Ivar’s dark mane. His scaled sides are still heaving from their run. The sweat cleans away some of the dust that has accumulated on his scales, and a few of the opalescent white scales catch and reflect the growing light. He glances down at them – it has been months since he’d noticed his glittering. Dry Loess with its shallow springs has not given the half-kelpie much in terms of water. There’s the small spring by his banyan, but he was made for deep pools, black lakes, the sea. The piebald stallion does not look at himself for long; there are more interesting things atop this cliff. Zhenga is watching the sunrise, and for a moment Ivar joins her. It is truly a glorious sight, one that has no match he has yet to see. The view from Sylva and the Taiga was blocked by the trees, and Nerine, Ischia, and Tephra have only an empty ocean to watch. The young horse ticks off the comparisons, and finds himself lacking only an opinion on Hyaline’s sunset. He’s never spent a night in the mountainous land, so he cannot compare it to this sight. A day ago, he’d have reassured himself that surely Loess was better, that there was no need to find out. This morning though, as he watches Zhenga look out at the sun rising over empty hills, he finds himself curious. Maybe he should go see all of the sunrises. “My favorite so far,” he tells the roan filly beside him. The hesitation between the pair of words was all but impossible to catch; he’s not even sure he’d meant to add it at all. |